A Dash of Love
by Sable-Reiver
Summary: AU SoRiku; Sora is in TV-love with a guy who hosts his own show on the Food Network. He never thinks they'll meet, and he's okay with that, as long as he has his dreams. What happens when he finds out that his crush is coming to a store near him? Warning: May contain coarse language. Excuse the cheesy title, please and thank you.
1. Chapter 1

Sora's friends probably thought he was insane.

Scratch that, they _definitely _thought he was insane. Why? Because he was in love with a TV host. More specifically, a guy who ran his own cooking show.

Every Wednesday, Sora would clear his entire schedule for the day so that he could sit down for _one hour_ and watch his TV crush turn regular food into something that looked like it came out of a magazine. It wasn't even like he was one of those people who would try to cook at the same time so that a meal turned out well, or even that he was going to write down the recipe for later. Not at all. Sora, by and by, only wanted to sit and stare at the '_silver-haired cooking god'_ (as he so quaintly put it), Riku.

The brunette knew he was rather delusional, becoming so enraptured by a man he was never going to meet, one who was pretty famous because of the success of his show, but dreams were for dreaming. He was a dreamer if he was nothing else (he'd even go so far as to say he was a dreamer before he was human, but that was a bit too Freudian for his mind).

Like he was four (or fourteen) again, as soon as the TV started playing that familiar music, he was frozen, body curled and rigid, eyes locked on the screen. He barely registered anything else, even the sounds from the program. He wasn't there for the literary genius that wasn't a cooking show. He was there for the _sexy_ genius that _was_ Riku Stalt. Just his voice was enough to send shivers spiraling through his tense body (vaguely it registered somewhere in the back of his mind that his looks could be one of the only reasons he was actually successful. Sora studiously ignored it). If someone were to ask Sora about what the man had been cooking, he would've mumbled something about steak before going into a full on gush-rant about how hot Riku had looked.

Sora knew he was insane as well as his friends did, but he didn't care. He was happy in his world, pretending that the god on screen was cooking for him, talking to him, looking at _him specifically _instead of the audience in general. His little world was perfect, because it had nothing but him and his Wednesdays.

And then Roxas told him that the same Silver-haired deity he drooled over was coming to their mall to do a demonstration in the kitchen appliances department of some store Sora had never heard of.

He'd stared for a long moment. Just stared. Then, when it all worked its way through his brain, Sora flew into a frenzy of questions and fanboy-obsession.

After he'd wrung every last drop of information, every detail he could manage out of Roxas, he flopped into bed, dreamy smile floating across his face, happily waiting for the day two weeks from then that would bring him and his love together.

-_Sable_


	2. Chapter 2

Breathing a shaky breath, Sora held it for a long moment, trying to calm his nerves down. When he released it in a whoosh, it hadn't helped at all, so he let his eyes wander around the store he had come to, in an attempt to find something to distract himself with.

Kitchen and home décor were everywhere, lining the walls and shelves and tables placed around the interior. It was a warm, welcoming place, everything some shade of brown, decorated with the oranges, yellows, and reds of the season. The customers there wandered, chatting happily with employees, browsing the wares, looking to be in no rush, or really any kind of state of anxiety.

Except for him. A scrawny, barely-kempt, jittery boy standing just inside the doors opening into the mall, a map, a pen, and a cookbook he'd grabbed from _somewhere_ (his house. It was from his house. Maybe he would take up cooking after this…or try…or maybe he would just go back to staring at the TV screen and worshipping the god there and sobbing because the man was perfect and they were never going to see each other again and _ohgodwhywouldtheynevermeetag ainLIFEIS SO. UNFAIR.) _clenched in his hands.

Sora had checked, double-checked, and then triple-checked to make sure that this was the place where _he_ would be, and then had checked and double-checked to make sure he would be early so that he could get a decent spot…

Except he was pretty sure everyone else had the same idea, because despite the fact that some of the people in the store had made purchases, _none of them were leaving_. Quite the opposite. They were actually beginning to _gather_ close to the kitchen area set into the middle of the store for such demonstrations.

Almost letting out a groan but holding it in because there was NO WAY he was letting it get to him, Sora puffed out his cheeks and stalked towards the crowd, using his size to his advantage to squeeze through gaps until finally, _finally_ he was at the front. Smooshed against the counter hard enough so that he could barely breathe, but at the front. Where he could see.

See the man that was currently entering the prepped area, haired tied back, looking every bit the TV star he was, should've been, or would soon be. Or would _always_ be _forever_, in Sora's case.

And with little more than an introduction, Riku began. But what he did couldn't really be classified as just as lesson on how to cook. Not in the brunette's eyes. Sure it was included, but the man was a star for a reason; he didn't just cook, he put on a show.

Every flip of the food, every twirl of the pan was done for the audience. He crafted little circular towers of onion before sataying and searing them, flipped meat from a flaming pan, crafted flavours that made the taste buds sing…

And he was a person.

Stupid as that might sound, he acted like a human being, not some big-shot star. He talked with the people in the audience. He joked with them, asked them about their lives. The atmosphere he created made it seem more like he was cooking for friend in his home, rather than for complete strangers in a mall. For once, Sora saw past that diamond-perfect exterior, and got to see the guy that was underneath, the one that loved to cook.

Their eyes met more than once, but such moments always only lasted an instant before the silverette was whirling away, making sure the food he was preparing had not even a moment to try to ruin itself. The veggies conspired to more than once, but Riku always managed to talk them down off the ledge of taste-hell.

And when it was all over, and everyone had gotten their little bite, Sora was sure now, more than ever, that he was in love. Maybe it was just the cooking. Maybe it was just the fame. Maybe it was just the fact that the guy was as attractive as medium-rare filet mignon cooked to perfection and drizzled in liquid ambrosia. Whatever it was though, it was there, and it wasn't leaving any time soon. And somehow, it even gave him the courage to ask for the man's autograph.

Sora barely believed it had happened once the moment had passed; he'd been so nervous, the words out his mouth were basically a long string of squeaks. But Riku only laughed and consented, scribbling his name and a little something extra on the inside cover. He'd even made conversation, dragging Sora out of his shell and getting him to laugh, even if it was accompanied by the brightest blush the brunette had ever worn.

Back home, Sora collapsed with a sigh on to his bed. The day had been…perfect, he decided, hugging the signed book to his chest.

He remembered, only as he was drifting off, that Riku had put down something more than his name. Bolting up, he grabbed at the cover, folding it open in a way that would've made any librarian cringe. But he didn't care. Not when he saw what was inside.

_Come see me again at the Queen's Throne Mall on Saturday? I look forward to it ;) – Riku_

* * *

_- Sable_


End file.
